


Sailor's Arms

by MarlinspikeHall



Category: Tintin - All Media Types
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Restraints, Rough Kissing, Sexual Tension, Tickle Fights, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 11:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17425295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarlinspikeHall/pseuds/MarlinspikeHall
Summary: When a storm breaks out at Marlinspike Hall, Haddock distracts Tintin by tickling him.





	Sailor's Arms

  It was evening at Marlinspike. The weather was turning from autumn to winter with a particular ferocity, and the wind was giving the trees a good beat down. It was noisy, but the back of the house was marginally quieter. After opening the door with an unusual carefulness (it didn't make a sound, perhaps masked by the racket outside), Haddock moved to take refuge in the study, but found it was already occupied.

A shock of ginger hair peaked up from the arm of the sofa, and the Captain found himself tip-toeing towards it. His feet instinctively avoided every loud floorboard, and he continued his advance carefully.

What he had here was a rare opportunity for payback. Recently, Tintin had taken to sneaking up on him and jabbing him in the sides, a prank which he did not take kindly to. He'd been unable to catch him so far, but he was usually more vulnerable when he was distracted, immersed in a book. It was a hardback with a dark blue cover, some kind of reference book, perhaps. Whatever it was, it had rendered him oblivious to his presence.

He was close enough. He relished the silence for a moment, and savoured the peaceful moment before his impending victory. Then, he pounced.

"Ah!" Tintin exclaimed, as the heavy book was knocked from his grasp. It clattered to the floor as Haddock came out of nowhere, and strong arms- sailors arms- pinned him down. For a moment, he struggled uselessly against him, but Haddock had the element of surprise on his side.

"Captain," he said breathlessly, arms held down at either side of his head. He glanced up. "Well done; you've caught me. Shall we say best of three-?"

His sentence was lost in a fit of stifled laughter, as he reacted to the captain's hands on his waist. Temporarily freed, he used his arms to push back against the Captain, and managed to twist his expression into one of determined neutrality.

"Going somewhere?" Haddock sat on his legs so he couldn't roll away, and pushed his arms back down again. Confident that the Captain would need both hands to restrain him, he maintained a straight face.

"Me? Oh, no, I could do this all day," he smiled up at him. "I just wonder when you'll get bored."

Quick as a flash, the Captain placed the entire span of one hand over Tintin's wrists, resting the other across his stomach.

"That will give us a while; you're far from boring," He smirked, and began to torment him once more.

He writhed, and grinned, but refused to make a sound. His muscles shuddered to the touch, and Haddock withdrew, to lure him into a false sense of security. It worked, and the reporter seemed about to say something when he resumed tickling.

"I-" he snorted, caught off guard as the Captain grabbed at him with both hands. He exhaled, and pushed him away again, breathing heavily as he held him at bay.

The Captain frowned, and pushed back against him, bringing his face close to inspect his. Grey eyes stared into his own, a smile crinkled their corners that he desperately tried to keep off his lips.

"I thought you weren't ticklish?" He recalled, from an earlier conversation.

Tintin scowled. "No, Captain. You said you weren't ticklish, and I said everyone was-"

"You just have to find their sensitive spot," Haddock recalled, a wicked gleam in his eye.

"No-!" He yelped, unused to having his own tactics employed against him. A sigh escaped his lips in the form of breathy laughter, and he flailed uselessly.

"What was that?" Haddock paused, as he feigned obliviousness to his wide smile. "You're obviously not sensitive here," he twitched his hands one final time, teasing, before moving onto his underarms.

Tintin shivered as the Captain ran his hands up his body, and made challenging eye contact. "You're right. Maybe I am immune," he said.

Haddock raised an eyebrow. "Shall we find out?"

"No-" he said, with a solitary grunt of laughter. He wriggled away, and successfully wrenched his legs out from under the Captain, who cried out in surprise. He wrestled his arms away and slid off the sofa, then crawled three feet away. The Captain caught him by the ankles, and wasted no time in attending to the soles of his feet, at which point Tintin kicked him away, but not hard enough to injure.

He shuffled backwards with remarkable speed, attempting to stand. "Captain-"

Determined not to lose his prey, he toppled him with a desperate lunge, and Tintin found himself on his back again, this time, pinned to the floor.

"Captain," he chuckled, as Haddock's hands searched for somewhere he hadn't tried yet. He settled against his collarbone, and gently explored his neck. He was racked by a fit of laughter, and, abandoning all pretense of obliviousness, he threw his head back, with loud shrieking. Grinning, Haddock continued the siege, for Tintin was an instrument that he controlled, and the symphony was beautiful.

"You've given up," He remarked, to which Tintin moved his shoulders, which may have been a shrug, or the last vestige of resistance. Knowing Tintin was far to stubborn to ask him to stop, he withdrew, but continued to hold him down, as Tintin grew weaker in his hold.

He watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, the gasps of relief, and his left hand, poised somewhere above Tintin's, felt the steady flutter of his pulse. He twitched his fingers more firmly against the slender wrist.

Sprawled together on the floor, he almost forgot what had lead them to this point. He felt Tintin relax beneath him, and he laid a hand at the back of his soft head, fingers tangled in gentle hair.

"Surrender?" He asked, a smile playing on his lips.

Tintin gazed up at him, open-mouthed, vulnerable. "Never," he said, breathlessly. His cheeks were flushed a deep red; every freckle on his face stood out enough to count.

"So be it," The Captain flipped him over with ease, and pressed him roughly into the carpet. Tintin gave a shriek of protest, but he placed his full body weight on him until his movements ceased. Tintin's fists were balled as they gripped the carpet.

"Captain," his voice was strained, crushed as he was, and, futilely, he shuffled forwards a few steps, Haddock on top of him, and collapsed.

Haddock chucked, and stroked his captive's hair lazily, holding him down with ease.

"Beg me," he whispered in his ear, and felt him freeze up in response. He smirked, and pressed his lips against Tintin's neck, slowly nuzzling into him.

The young man sighed, and unfurled his hand. Haddock smiled slyly against his skin, and kissed him once, firmly, at the base of the neck, building up a different expectation. Then, he began to rib him again.

Tintin screeched with laughter, exposed, unable to defend himself. The Captain had free reign, and exploited it mercilessly, simultaneously stroking under his arms and knees, moving between his thighs and back around his waist. Tintin gasped, winded, and Haddock rolled off him, skimming an exploratory hand over his backside. There was another shriek, and Tintin turned to him, furiously wrapping his legs around his waist. They reached out, and both grabbed the other with startling ferocity. Haddock attempted to roll away, but only brought the stowaway with him. Jostling for power, both jumbled over one another, guffaws mingling as they overbalanced, capsized, and tumbled into each other's embrace.

The laughter died down, until they were left in a gasping, tangled mess, bodies heaving as they caught their breath. Tintin laid his head against the Captain's chest, and he lay there for a moment, listening to his heartbeat.

Thunder crackled outside, and he felt the youth tense against him, reaching for him instinctively. He folded his arm around him, and drew him closer, resting his chin on the top of his head.

"It's getting worse," Tintin said, thoughts dwelling on the storm outside.

Haddock nodded. "It's like being back at sea," he murmured.

Crack! Tintin flinched as a large branch fell against the pane.

Haddock smiled, and placed a hand under Tintin's chin. Slowly, he raised it to meet his gaze.

"Let me take your mind off it," he whispered, his hand tangling Tintin's hair. He kissed him firmly on the mouth. They maintained this for a full minute, until Tintin pulled away with a sigh.

"Better?" The Captain asked. Tintin smiled, and shook his head.

"Keep going," he said with a sly smile, as he pulled his jumper off himself in one smooth motion.

The captain grinned, and moved to take his own jumper off.

"I warn you, it's cold in here," Haddock said, and Tintin laughed.

"Then perhaps you can warm me up," he said with a smile.

"Perhaps," Haddock whispered, as he undressed Tintin. "There's just one thing I have to do first."

He ran his hand along Tintin's legs, stroking the soft skin, and he shivered to his touch.

Haddock kissed him on the stomach gently, and smirked at Tintin's reaction. He parted his legs gently, and kissed along his thighs, lulling him into a false sense of security, tinged with the undertones of arousal.

Then, he began to tickle him again.

~ 


End file.
